


Picking Up The Pieces

by GreyWardenMorgan



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-22
Updated: 2013-10-01
Packaged: 2017-12-27 07:03:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/975871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyWardenMorgan/pseuds/GreyWardenMorgan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian took a deep breath. “I am sorry, Marian.”</p><p>She snorted. “Right. Sorry for which part? The I’m-blaming-you-for-every-terrible-thing-that-wasn’t-actually-your-fault? Or maybe the I’m-no-longer-thankful-for-all-you’ve-done-for-me-because-I’m-an-ungrateful-bastard? Or is it the I’m-going-to-ignore-you-when-you-need-me-more-than-ever?”</p><p>Picks up at the conclusion of Dragon Age II. Hawke is a reluctant Viscountess, charged with the rebuilding of Kirkwall. Her budding romance with Sebastian is in shambles, as he seems intent on blaming her for the actions of her friend. This story follows them as they navigate their grief, reconciliation and where things go from here. WARNING: Explicit sexual content, because what fun is a fanfic without smut?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Confrontation

More rubble to climb over. More damage to survey. _Is there no end to this mess?_

Hawke stared at a tumble of stone some feet away, not hearing Seneshal Bran’s lecture of costs and timelines. Four days of this and there were still at least a dozen more claims to check, homes and shops that had been damaged or destroyed from the Chantry explosion and the chaos that followed.

 _Explosion_. The word didn’t seem sufficient to describe the catastrophe that Anders had unleashed. 

Parts of Kirkwall looked downright apocalyptic and everyone wanted to know who would be picking up the pieces. Orsino and Merideth had been put down by her hand, and so Hawke was shoved into being Viscountess with virtually no opportunity to decline. One swift vote and swearing-in later, the city’s problems were effectively her problems.

This is what found her out again today, on what Bran would derisively call their “disaster tours.” A citizen would make a case for damages, and the Seneshal would drag her to the site to survey the destruction. There would be all kinds of haggling at this point – “There was an antique chair in there, it belonged to my grandmother, it had sentimental value, I demand 80 sovereigns” – and fair remittance and rebuilding would be determined. The good news is that Hawke had no shortage of help from her friends, and she took full advantage of their respective skills for these visits.

Varric came along, because Varric knew coin. He could rattle off labor costs for rebuilding. He knew how quickly the Masons Guild could complete a project. He was a master of negotiating materials expenses. Hawke employed two assistants for him, young dwarfs from the Merchants Guild whom Varric could trust with running messages and keeping invoices. His contacts throughout Thedas proved invaluable, and not for the first time Hawke wondered how she was ever going to repay him for all of this.

Aveline came along, because Aveline knew a bluff. She couldn’t lie to save her own life, but she had a talent for ferreting out deceit – skills which made her simultaneously the best and worst card player Hawke had ever seen. Her imposing glare helped to keep people honest when it came to their claims. She had a memory like an iron trap and could catch even the savviest con in a discrepancy. She stood by Hawke’s side every day, the silent enforcer.

Sebastian came along, because… well, Hawke wasn’t quite sure _why_ Sebastian came along. 

A week ago, she’d been giddy at direction of their relationship. They spent nearly every day together, one always thinking up reasons for the other to be present. His chaste demeanor was beginning to crumble; he didn’t deflect her every attempt at flirtation and even seemed to give back a bit of what he was getting. He would press his leg against hers during cards at the Hanged Man, and the rakish looks he’d send her way gave her daydreams that would’ve made Isabela blush. He began to speak more earnestly of returning to Starkhaven to claim his rightful throne. She found herself more and more enamored with him, and not just because he was all golden skin and blue eyes and rolling brogue. He was a good man, in every sense of the word, the kind of person she wanted to be when she really stopped to think about it. The kind of person she wanted to be with.

Then everything unraveled. Anders destroyed Kirkwall and Hawke’s world tilted into something she couldn’t recognize anymore. She’d taken no pleasure in delivering the ultimate punishment right there; driving a precisely placed dagger through the mage’s spinal cord and watching him collapse into the dirt. He’d left her no choice, and she hated him for that almost as much as she hated him for fucking everything up. She could still hear Sebastian’s accusation ringing in her ears; _You… were part of this?_ And though she promised him that she’d had no knowledge of Anders’ plan, she could tell he refused believe her. Since that moment, he’d walled himself off from everyone, particularly her. She had offered a spare room to him, and he it made abundantly clear that his acceptance was born strictly from a lack of other options. He’d speak when spoken to, but never more than was required and never without prompting. He took all of his meals alone. He would meet Hawke by the door each morning and excuse himself to his room upon their return each night. She counted herself lucky if she received more than five words in a day.

She wasn’t sure which wounded her more – the incomprehensible betrayal by a manic Anders, or the unjustified rejection by a broken Sebastian.

And so here they were, the Vicountess and the exiled Prince, looking over a battered storefront in Hightown Market, separated by a few feet that may as well have been a thousand leagues. She watched him as discreetly as she could manage. His arms were crossed over his polished white armor and he was frowning slightly, gazing off at nothing in particular, cold and stern and proud. Moments like this were a poignant reminder that he was royalty – his presence, his bearing, it practically radiated power and status. He was effortlessly regal. Hawke wondered why she had ever thought someone like that would be interested in her.

He must’ve felt her gaze, because he turned his head to look at her. She smiled slightly but his frown only deepened in response before he looked away. It all suddenly became too much – the silent indictments, the blaming stares. He’d charged and convicted her without so much as allowing her a chance to explain herself. Her temper flared into something monstrous. Bran prattled on, oblivious to the scene unfolding to his left, but Aveline caught the subtle shift. If Hawke had been paying attention, she would’ve been impressed with the cunning way Aveline drew the Seneshal’s attention with some question and led him to the other end of the courtyard. As it was, Hawke was too busy grabbing Sebastian’s elbow and forcing him to face her.

“There. Now.” She pointed to a nearby alleyway.

He was incredulous. “Excuse me?”

“We need to talk, now,” she hissed. She took a step forward, a means to push him back by invading his space, but he held his ground. 

“We don’t _need_ to do anything. There is nothing I wish to say to you.” He adjusted his posture to loom over her, their faces inches apart.

Against her will, tears sprang to Hawke’s eyes. She bit her bottom lip, hard, to keep a sob from spilling forth. Sebastian’s expression morphed from anger to surprise. The only person who’d seen Hawke cry was Aveline – once on the ship from Gwaren mourning her sister, and once just a few months ago mourning her mother. He seemed disarmed by the show of emotion and instinctively reached toward Hawke’s arm. She turned away, almost violently, and marched toward the street leading to Lowtown. She’d sooner drown her sorrows in the Hanged Man’s swill than let him see what he was doing to her heart.


	2. Regret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian experiences a moment of introspection and wants to put things right. Fenris makes it clear that there are repercussions should he bring Hawke more heartache.

Sebastian watched her disappear around the corner, unsure of what to do. As he stood there staring after her, he heard a familiar voice behind him.

“Well, shit. What are you going to do now?”

Sebastian groaned inwardly. “I don’t know. I suppose I’m open to suggestions.”

Varric came up to stand beside the Prince. “Do you want me to say what I think, or do you want me to say what you’d like to hear?”

“That they’re two different things speaks volumes.”

“Look, it’s probably none of my business, but anyone with eyes can see she’s been crazy about you for years. And correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure it’s not a one-sided deal. ”

The archer shook his head. “It’s more complicated than that. What Anders did…”

“Exactly, Vael, what _Anders_ did. Not what Hawke did. You can’t truly tell me you think she was a part of his plan, that she knew what he was doing.”

Sebastian rounded on the dwarf. “How could she not know? They were inseparable. She was his closest friend, always visiting his clinic or bringing him supplies… she gave him a key to the estate, can you believe that? And he was never shy about his infatuation with her, touching her all the time and looking at her like he…” he trailed off, red faced and furious. He drew several ragged breaths before looking back down at Varric, who was wearing a knowing expression.

“Did you just hear yourself?” he asked quietly.

Sebastian let out a heavy sigh and rubbed his temples. “Yes.”

“This is about more than the Chantry.” It wasn’t a question.

This was the first time he’d spoken aloud about it, the first time he’d permitted himself even a second to think beyond his blinding anger. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

The Prince didn’t respond further and Varric was content to let the silence stretch. They stood side by side, watching the activity in the market square diminish. It would be dusk soon and various workmen went about concluding the days’ tasks. As Aveline and Bran made to depart for the Keep, the guard captain glanced back at them questioningly. Varric nodded to her, _All’s well,_ and she continued on her way. Sebastian appeared lost in thought, his face clouded with doubt. When shadows began to stretch across the nearly abandoned courtyard, Varric cleared his throat. Sebastian shook his head as if returning from a daze.

“So, I’ll ask again: what are you going to do now?”

Sebastian’s mouth set into a hard line. “I’m going to talk to tell her the truth, tell her how I feel.” He looked down at Varric. “Do you think I should follow her, or wait for her to return?”

“Let her cool down a little. Go to the manse. I’m sure she’ll be home soon.”

****

He kept his head down for much of the short walk back to the Amell estate, thinking on what to say and how to say it. He vaguely reached into the pouch on his belt to remove the key – they’d kept to locking the door for Orana’s safety, now that Bodahn and Sandal had moved on and only she remained during the day – and as he stepped into the alcove he nearly crashed into one very spiky and very irritated looking elf. 

Sebastian staggered backward in surprise. “Fenris, what are you doing here?” he huffed, frustrated at the interruption.

“I am here for Hawke. The reason is none of your concern.” His voice was laced with venom. Fenris surely would’ve noticed Sebastian’s treatment of Hawke lately, he realized, and his fierce loyalty would translate into a profound dislike for the Prince as a result. He shifted uncomfortably, feeling even more embarrassed than before.

“She’s not here,” he replied lamely.

Fenris’s lip curled in disgust. “I can see that. Where is she?” He punctuated each word, as if Sebastian was a simpleton who couldn’t understand.

Anger overcame shame at this point. “She stomped off. I don’t know where she went. If you want to talk to her so badly, go find her.” 

He made to shove past the elf, but Fenris caught his arm and pulled Sebastian back to face him. Sebastian saw a barely suppressed glow from the lyrium tattoos and his free hand moved to the dagger at his waist. Fenris saw the movement and snorted, unconcerned. He leaned into Sebastian and spoke, his voice soft and dangerous.

“For reasons I cannot begin to comprehend, she cares for you. I have watched you treat her like dirt these last few days and I am here to tell you that _I will not allow it to continue._ ” He gritted his teeth for the next sentence. “She deserves better than you are giving her.”

Sebastian’s jaw worked as he struggled between guilt and outrage. “I know,” was all he managed.

If Fenris could appear surprised, Sebastian supposed this was it. He arched an eyebrow and his expression became something less aggressive. “You know, and yet you continue to do it.”

“I’ve only just realized what I’ve been doing to her. I mean to make it right, as quickly as possible.”

Green eyes scrutinized him intently. Seeming satisfied with his sincerity, Fenris released his arm and took a step back. “Good. I intend to hold you to that promise.” Sebastian nodded and turned to the door. As he inserted the key, he heard Fenris speak once more. “If you hurt her again, I will kill you.” When Sebastian looked back over his shoulder, the elf was gone.

****

Sebastian was asleep in a chair near the large fireplace when he was startled awake by the sound of the door closing. He jumped up and smoothed the front of his shirt. The fire had burned low but his eyes were sharp, and he instantly noticed Hawke’s gait and posture were off as she entered the room. _She's been attacked, ambushed, I should’ve gone to her sooner, I should’ve been there…_ He rushed over to her. 

“Marian, are you okay?” he asked, frantic. He grabbed her arms to steady her when the smell of whiskey washed over him. “Oh, you’re…”

“Really fucking drunk,” she slurred. She shook out of his grasp and shoved him away. “Don’t touch me. You’re an ass. We’re fighting.”

He frowned. “I know, and I want to apologize. I want to explain myself.”

Hawke glared at him with bleary eyes. “Well? Explain, then. Ass.” She tried to cross her arms over her chest but the motion threw her off balance and she crashed into Sebastian, snorting with laughter. He caught her gently. 

“Maybe we should talk tomorrow,” he offered.

“Yep,” she said simply, and she burped in his face.

“Right. Let’s get you to bed.” She nodded and began to stagger toward the stairs dangerously. Sebastian looped an arm around her waist to keep her steady and she hummed appreciatively. He tried to ignore the warmth that blossomed in his chest at the sound and her proximity. When she lost her balance again and threatened to pitch them both down the steps, he decided the best course of action was simply to carry her. He leaned down slightly and hooked an arm behind her knees, sweeping her up against his chest.

“Wow, you’re strong,” she murmured against his cheek. He couldn’t help but smile at that.

He struggled a bit with the bedroom door, but managed to negotiate the handle without dropping his cargo and crossed the room quietly. He set Hawke on the edge of the bed and kneeled down in front of her to remove her boots. His breath caught in his throat when she hesitantly ran her hands through his hair and over his shoulders.

“Thank you for helping me,” she whispered.

“You’re welcome, Hawke.” _Keep your eyes down and focus on the laces, or you will most definitely do something stupid._

“Why don’t you love me?”

The question was like a slap. Sebastian rocked back on his heels to look at her. “What?”

“I love you. I've loved you for years. I don’t understand why you don’t love me.” She hiccupped.

She looked so sad, so wounded and defeated that it caused him actual physical pain. He fought the horrifying guilt that bubbled in his stomach and bit back the urge to confess his feelings for her. “We’ll talk tomorrow, remember?” He forced a smile that he was certain looked more like a grimace.

She nodded slowly and fell back against the mattress. He hurriedly finished removing her boots and then maneuvered her under the bed covers. She seemed unconscious within seconds and he stood there for a long while, listening to her even breathing. His thoughts and emotions were a complicated mess when he finally left the room, and he knew he was in for another sleepless night.


	3. Repentence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian bares his soul and begs Hawke's forgiveness.

Hawke groaned and pressed a pillow against her face, trying to fight the urge to vomit and cry and _why does the sun have to be so Maker damned bright?_

Whiskey had never been her friend, and the cheap garbage she’d shared with Isabela last night was terrible even by her dismal standards. She couldn’t remember anything after the fourth round, but there was no blood on her clothes and no stranger in her bed – two signs that she’d avoided any serious trouble.

The room spun dangerously when she tried to stand, so she resigned herself to a pathetic crawl toward the pitcher of water on her desk. There was a small jar of peppermint, ginger and other freshening herbs there as well. She sat back against the desk with eyes closed, alternately sipping water and taking a small pinch out of the jar to chew slowly.

She flinched when there was a knock at the bedroom door. _Fucking wonderful._ “Come in, very, very quietly,” she called thickly. She heard the door open and close carefully and the approaching tread of boots on the carpet.

“Good morning.” She cracked an eye and discovered Sebastian crouched down beside her.

She scowled. “Good? Not really.”

“No, I… suppose not. Here, this should help.” 

He held out a small vial. Hawke held it up to her eye but couldn’t determine the contents. She cocked her head at him in question. “It’s a tried-and-true remedy for over-indulgence. I, ah, tested many in my younger days,” he blushed a bit at that, “and this one actually works.”

She shrugged and pulled the cork out with her teeth before downing the liquid. Within seconds, the pounding in her head abated and her stomach settled. She looked at him, amazed. “What is that?”

“I can’t tell you what it is or where I get it. I suppose you’ll just have to keep me around if you think you’ll ever need more.” He began to smile but it faltered when he caught the perturbed expression on her face.

“I’m a little confused,” she began hotly. “You’ve been ignoring me for almost a week now, treating me like a criminal, and now you’re joking about me keeping you around.” Now that her head was clear, she remembered how angry she’d been at him.

He took a deep breath. “I am sorry, Marian.”

She snorted. “Right. Sorry for which part? The I’m-blaming-you-for-every-terrible-thing-that-wasn’t-actually-your-fault? Or maybe the I’m-no-longer-thankful-for-all-you’ve-done-for-me-because-I’m-an-ungrateful-bastard? Or is it the I’m-going-to-ignore-you-when-you-need-me-more-than-ever?”

Sebastian recoiled. “I… all of it.”

She rolled her eyes at that. “Right,” she repeated. She made to stand up but he reached out to hold her hands. She hesitated, her fury temporarily overshadowed by surprise at the tenderness in his gesture.

Sebastian fixed her with a pleading gaze. “Marian, please. I see now that I’ve done everything wrong. I should have told you what I was thinking, how I was feeling. I know I don’t deserve to ask this, but will you give me an opportunity to make this right?” Crystal blue eyes searched her face, desperate and imploring, and something in her softened. Reluctantly, she nodded.

“I admit that I was very jealous of Anders. You two always had a special bond, and you seemed so comfortable and at ease around him. When we first met, I sort of assumed that you two were… an item. After all, he was very clear about his affections for you.” Sebastian looked embarrassed. Hawke chewed the inside of her cheek and fought the sting of fresh tears in her eyes. The memory of the mage was still raw and painful for her.

“It was Isabela who told me you’d rebuffed his advances, and I was secretly delighted to hear that news. The more time we spent together, the more I realized that you were stirring something in me I’d never felt before. When I thought of returning to Starkhaven, it was always with a silent wish to have you by my side. You consumed my thoughts day and night. When we parted, the only thing that kept me sane was the knowledge that I would see your beautiful face again soon.” Tears were chasing one another down her cheeks now.

“When Anders attacked the Chantry, it felt like losing my family all over again. The sisters and mothers I’d known for over a decade, slaughtered… and the place I’d called home for all those years was in ruins.” His voice caught in his throat. “I watched you in anguish over his body, after you delivered the killing blow of his judgment. Your despair and regret, your mourning… it shames me to confess this, Marian, but in that moment it seemed easier to blame you for it all.”

A single tear rolled down Sebastian’s cheek as he closed his eyes. She fought back a choking sob and reached up to brush the back of her fingers over the trail it left on his skin. He took a shaky breath.

“I was selfish, thinking only of my own suffering and grief. I didn’t stop to consider that you were going through the same pain, and that I was making it worse.” He cupped her face and fixed her with an intimate gaze. “I’m not worthy of your forgiveness, but I want you to know that I love you. I am so truly and deeply sorry for all that I’ve done, and if you can find it in your heart to grant me another opportunity, I swear to you that I will never, ever put anything or anyone above you.”

He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before releasing her and standing again. “I don’t want you to answer now. Please, just think about it. I’ll have Orana bring you a light breakfast and prepare your bath. Whenever you’re ready to come down, I’ll be waiting.” He gave her a sad smile before leaving the room and beckoning the elf from the top of the stairs.

Hawke used her sleeve to dry her cheeks as she rose to her feet. _Well, that wasn’t how I saw the morning going._ Sebastian was sorry. He was very sorry, and he loved her. She hadn’t been banking on either of those confessions, instead prepared for a knock-down, drag-out fight with the man. This certainly made things much easier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully no one finds Sebastian too sappy or out of character here. He always seemed to me the type of man that would be genuine in his remorse and make every effort to confess his flaws and mistakes - in part because of who he is, and in part because of his years in the Chantry. I wanted him to do more than apologize, but instead delve into the ugly emotions he'd been battling.


	4. Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter, in which Varric pays a visit and we meet Hawke's cat. (Hey, I'm a cat person - I had to interject a little feline love.)

“Son of a bitch!” 

Varric almost tripped over Hawke’s new cat when he entered the manse, and he was certain she’d tried to tangle him up on purpose. She was a little furry shadow, all black with great orange eyes that didn’t miss a thing. Hawke’s mabari Perren had a habit of chasing off any felines that came too close to the property, but he seemed to make an exception for this one. They’d trot after one another through the courtyard and investigate holes and corners. Perren took to whining and scratching at the door each night and finally Hawke relented, allowing the cat to come inside. She still hadn’t named her new addition, but Varric could tell Hawke was secretly smitten. The hairs all over her lap and the cat-shaped impressions all over her house didn't lie. 

The cat strolled into the library, looking over her shoulder at Varric every few steps. He shrugged and followed her. There he found Sebastian sitting stiffly in one of the chairs, his fingers frantically drumming on the arm and his face tight with worry. He tried to force a relaxed posture upon seeing Varric but only succeeded in making himself look more awkward. There was a half empty wine bottle on the table nearby. The cat weaved around the Prince’s legs and he leaned down to stroke her absently. “Varric, good morning.”

“The midday bell’s come and gone, so I think it’s technically ‘good afternoon.’” Varric settled in to the chair opposite his friend. “Are you okay? You look a little…”

“Tense?” Sebastian offered through an anxious smile.

 _I was going to say manic, but…_ “Yeah, tense.”

The archer ran a hand through his auburn hair. “I spoke to Marian this morning.”

Varric chortled. “I didn’t realize she’d be in any condition to chat this morning. She took down almost an entire bottle of what Isabela claimed was whiskey. Getting her home was quite an adventure; she nearly killed us both on every set of stairs between here and the Hanged Man.” 

“Aye, I know what you mean.” The cat jumped into Sebatian’s lap and settled into a contented ball, purring loudly. 

“So naturally, I assumed she’d be bed-ridden for the day, vowing to castrate the man who made that whiskey but otherwise incapable of cogent speech.”

“I managed to procure a trusted remedy for the aftermath of heavy drinking. Once her head was cleared, I… said what I needed to say.” The Prince looked a little queasy. “I apologized, confessed my weakness and begged her forgiveness. I told her that I love her. I asked her to take the morning to consider my words, and said that I would be waiting when she was ready to speak her peace.” He dropped his head against the back of the chair and stared forlornly at the ceiling. “I’ve been sitting here since.” 

Varric rested his chin on his tented fingers. “If she wanted you gone, surely she would’ve come down to order you out by now. Hawke isn’t one to draw out a confrontation. She’s more of a get-down-to-it kind of woman.”

He heard a glimmer of hope in Sebastian’s voice. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. Perhaps she’s willing to forgive me after all.”

“Sure, I…” He stopped when he saw the cat turn her head sharply to stare toward the doorway. A second later, he heard Hawke’s bedroom door open and close. Sebastian bolted upright, vaulting the cat onto the floor. She shook herself out and glared at him indignantly. 

Varric could almost feel the panic emanating from him. “Well, Vael – at least the waiting is over.”

Sebastian followed him out of the library, and he heard the prince’s breath come out in a rush when they caught sight of Hawke descending the steps. She was wearing finery, a silvery slate gray reminiscent of water flowing over dark stones, accented with soft black trim and burnished silver buttons. The first time she’d worn it, Sebastian had played at being scandalized over the short hem and daring neckline – a ruse Varric had seen right through, though he was gracious enough to keep his mouth shut. Jean Luc had done a remarkable job tailoring it to hug every curve and swell of Hawke’s body. Her hair was tied loosely at the nape of her neck and a ponytail of raven waves fell over the front of one of her shoulders. 

She smiled at them both. “Varric, do I owe you thanks for seeing me safely home last night?”

He waved a hand dismissively. “No trouble at all. To be honest, I’m astonished to see you upright. I already stopped by the Keep to tell Bran you’d be out of commission today. Bad clams from the docks,” he whispered, and he patted his stomach ominously for effect.

Hawke laughed. “Well, well, well, a free day? What an unexpected treat. I’ll have to get hammered drunk more often.”

“Just keep to the house today. If anyone sees you out and about with rosy cheeks and a smile, my credibility may become compromised. I’m sure Sebastian can keep you company.” He gave Hawke small smile and turned to take his leave. On his way out the door, he caught sight of the cat lounging on the window sill. He could’ve sworn that she gave him a quick wink before she began to nonchalantly groom her paws.


	5. Reconciliation, Pt 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SMUT WARNING: sexy times ahead. Definitely NSFW.

Sebastian was staring at the bottom step, looking awkward and uncomfortable. Hawke waited for him to speak but he seemed at a loss for how to proceed. She began to cast around for a way to break the silence.

“Have you eaten anything?” she asked kindly.

“Oh, aye. Orana made me eat a scone.”

“ _Made_ you eat it? The Maker himself would return for those scones alone, Sebastian, they’re amazing.” As she’d hoped, the teasing brought a ghost of a smile to his face.

“Well, I just… I wasn’t very hungry.”

She gave him a sympathetic nod and descended the remaining stairs. “I see.” She held her hand out to him. When he took it, she wove her long, delicate fingers with his. His hands were warm and surprisingly smooth, thanks to the shooting gloves he wore during combat.

He licked his lips nervously. “Are you ready… Rather, I mean to say, would you like to talk now?”

Hawke hesitated, then shook her head slowly. “No. I don’t want to talk.”

He paled. “Oh,” he said quietly. “I understand. I mean, I can…” 

She pressed her free hand to his mouth, silencing him. “Sebastian, stop. You didn’t let me finish.” His brow furrowed in confusion but he didn’t pull away from her. “We have time to talk later. Right now, I want something else from you.” She moved her hand to hold his cheek, watching his lips part with a nervous exhale. _Now or never, right?_ “Come upstairs with me.”

She held her breath, expecting him to stammer and refuse, to say it was too fast, to turn away from her embarrassed. Without hesitation, he leaned down and captured her mouth with his own. He coaxed her lips apart and slipped his tongue into her mouth, swallowing her moan. She rocked her hips forward, grinding against him and relishing the groan that tore from his throat. He turned her face and kissed the hollow under her jaw, running his tongue over the sensitive skin. When she gasped in pleasure, she felt him smile against her throat. He carefully pulled the band from her hair and ran his fingers through the soft strands.

Hawke suddenly remembered her carefully devised plan and pulled back, panting. “Upstairs,” she breathed.

“Yes, my lady,” he said softly. _Maker, that voice._

She tried not to drag him up the steps with frantic need. When they reached the bedroom, she slammed the door behind him and locked it. She found him inches away when she turned around, and he backed her against the smooth wood and pressed his hands to either side of the frame, caging her in with his body. Grabbing the back of his neck, she buried her fingers in his hair and pulled his mouth back to hers. She drew his full bottom lip into her mouth and gave it a gentle tug with her teeth, and then she devoured him, sweeping her tongue past his lips and tasting the wine he’d been drinking.

When she released her hold, she closed her eyes and savored for a moment. “Your mouth is delicious, Sebastian. I can’t wait to see what the rest of you tastes like.”

He made a deep rumble of approval in his chest and dipped his head down to kiss her neck. One hand came up to knead her breast through the fabric of her finery. The cloth was silky against her skin and her arousal so intense that he was able to feel the pebbled nipple right through it, and he teased it gently with the pad of his thumb. She arched forward into his touch, and all she could think about was _his tongue and his hands and son of a bitch, he distracted me again._

She pressed her hands to his chest and gave him a gentle push backward. He looked up at her questioningly, all flushed cheeks and mussed hair. She walked him back another few paces and then pointed to the chair she’d left in the middle of the room.

“You sit there.” He quirked an eyebrow at her but acquiesced to the command. She moved to stand behind him, running her hands down his chest and stomach and stopping at the top of his trousers. She could feel his hips thrust forward ever so slightly, a silent plea for her to slide down just a bit lower. She spoke directly into his ear now, her voice heavy with desire. “You’ll stay there, just like this, while I play with you.”

He groaned, clearly pleased with the direction things were headed. Still, she wanted to hear him. “Is that a yes?”

He shifted in the chair to bring them face-to-face. She could barely see the crystal blue of his eyes, so dark were they with lust and wanting. “I am yours, to do with what you will, lass,” he murmured. “Anything and everything, as many times as you’d like.” He ran his tongue over her lips before kissing her gently. Hawke felt her sex throb in anticipation of the promise he infused in his words. She let out a slow breath through her nose and fought the urge to mount him right there on the chair and ride him into oblivion.

As she walked around the chair to stand before him, she undid the first four buttons of her finery. She watched his eyes travel over her body and come to rest on the newly exposed flesh, the deep cleavage and smooth swells. His mouth fell open when she began to tease herself with feather light touches, brushing her fingertips from her throat down to her breasts and back again. She pulled the fabric aside further to allow him a glimpse of dusky red nipple and he let out a low moan.

A sly smile crossed her lips. “Does that mean you wish to see more, sweetheart?” She made quick work of the remaining buttons but kept the dress closed with her hand. Sebastian was gripping the arms of the chair so hard that she could see his knuckles pale. Moving so her back was to him, she shimmied out of the dress and let it fall to the floor, exposing her naked form. She ran her hands lightly up and down her sides and then twisted them into her hair, lifting it from her back and sighing at the sensation of her nails against her scalp.

She looked back at him over her shoulder. His head was against the back of the chair and he was watching her through half lidded eyes. His left hand was snaked down the front of his trousers and he was languidly stroking himself. The sight of him sent a pulse of pleasure through her core. She turned to reveal the rest of her body to him, one hand still entwined into her hair and the other massaging her full, round breasts. 

He was nearly panting now, and she dropped to her knees in front of him, gently grabbing his forearm. “That’s my job, love,” she whispered, nodding toward his trousers. He slowly removed his hand, leaving the unmistakable outline of his cock straining against the fabric. 

She gave him a wicked grin. “Now, off with this,” she instructed, pointing at his shirt. Sebastian lifted it over his head and tossed it aside. Without hesitation, she leaned forward and kissed his shoulders and chest, raking her nails down the hard planes of his stomach. She ran her tongue over his nipple and carefully grazed it with her teeth, delighting in the sounds that tumbled from his lips. As she moved lower, her breasts brushed against his swollen length.

“Marian…” he gasped. 

Hawke rocked back and slipped nimble fingers under the waist of his trousers, tugging them down. He raised his hips from the chair and allowed her to slide them down further, along with his smallclothes. His cock sprang free, thick and heavy, and she felt a thrill of desire rush down her spine and between her legs. She made quick work of his boots, casting them aside carelessly so she could divest him of the remaining clothing. She couldn’t stop the whimper of excitement that escaped her when he was finally and gloriously naked in front of her.

She settled herself between his knees and walked her fingers up to his hips, brushing them around the hot skin but not yet taking him in hand. “Sebastian, your cock is magnificent,” she purred. She ran an experimental fingertip along the underside of his shaft and watched his abdomen flex as he bared his teeth, a flash of white in his fevered face. “I can’t tell you,” she kissed one hip, “how long,” then kissed the other, “I’ve been dreaming about doing this.” She wet her lips and plunged him into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the scorching flesh. Sebastian cried out her name as she bobbed up and down in his lap. She wrapped her hand around the base and stroked him in time with her mouth, and he began to thrust up to meet her. He was heated steel wrapped in velvet and Hawke was on fire at the taste of him, her arousal evident from the slickness glistening on her thighs. He was muttering in his native tongue, words she couldn’t understand but she could _most definitely_ guess what he was driving at. She increased her speed and took him further into her throat.

When he spoke next, his brogue was so thick that it took her a moment to realize he was speaking their common tongue again.

“Marian,” he panted. “I can’t… please… I need to be inside of you.”

She groaned while her mouth was still around him and he shuddered at the vibration. His chest was rising and falling with frantic huffs and there was a fine sheen of sweat over his skin. She felt his hand at her cheek, guiding her back and she withdrew from him reluctantly. His head fell back and he shut his eyes tightly. “By the Void, woman, you’re going to kill me,” he croaked with a smile.

Hawke laughed. “There are worse ways to die, I think.”

“Oh, undoubtedly.” He opened his eyes and looked back down at her, the heat still present in his stare. She bit her bottom lip and his cock twitched in response.

She rose to her feet and stepped back toward the bed. “You’ve been so patient, Sebastian,” she murmured. Her calves hit the bed frame and she eased herself down. “I think it’s only fair that you have a turn now.” She shifted around until she was sitting back against the headboard, her knees bent and her ankles crossed just so, as to teasingly hide her wet center from his eyes. He pushed up from the chair and moved toward her slowly, the absolute picture of a predator descending on his very willing prey.

****

As Sebastian climbed up the bed, he smirked to himself at the way Hawke’s legs fell apart at his approach. She almost seemed surprised by it herself for she surely had been intent on continuing this little game of teasing, and while he was all for drawing out the pleasure his control was frayed to the breaking point. He was working to master enough resolve to hold out a bit longer _if only to prove I can give as good as I can get._

“Oh, Marian,” he said softly. “Look at you, open wide and ready for me.” He saw her body shiver from head to toe at the sound of his voice and decided to press his advantage. “You’re so beautiful, so pink and perfect.” He lifted her ankle to his lips, kissing his way gently up her leg. When he came to the back of her knee, he circled the sensitive skin with his tongue and she gasped. “You and that clever tongue of yours, the things you’ve been doing to me...” He nuzzled her thigh and nipped the soft flesh, and she bucked her hips up toward him, wordlessly begging him to go further. He reached around her legs to grasp her hips, his face mere inches from her sex.

“Do you want me to taste you, Marian?” He exhaled against her and watched her body shudder.

“Yes, Sebastian, please, I can’t… _uuhh_ …” The words cut off abruptly as he covered her with his tongue, parting her slick folds. He sought out her sensitive pearl, sliding over it and around it and back down to her opening to tease and penetrate her just a little. She was writhing under him, cursing and throwing her head back. When he glanced up and saw her teasing her nipples, he growled and moved up her body. He held her face and kissed her, letting her taste herself on his lips, and she swirled her tongue through his mouth and moaned appreciatively. He pressed his cock against her but didn’t enter her, pulling himself back as she wriggled her hips in an effort to impale herself on him.

“So eager, lass, what is it that you want?” he whispered against her mouth.

“I want you, I need you.” She whimpered when he pulled back further and ran her nails down his back, frustrated.

“You need me to what?” He eased forward, only a little, and they groaned in unison when the tip of his erection slid into her. Sebastian’s entire body was tense with the effort to stay still. “Need me to what, love?” he asked again through gritted teeth.

“Fuck me,” she gasped, and he drove into her and buried himself entirely, his vision whiting out at how unbelievably tight she was, clenching around him in ways that were nearly causing him to unravel after just one push. He let out a deep, throaty moan and began to thrust in and out of her slowly. She arched her back and pushed her breasts out to him, an invitation that certainly _could not be declined,_ and he lowered himself down to draw her nipple into his mouth, never breaking his rhythm. Her hands were all over him, his shoulders, his back, down his arms and up his chest, leaving trails of fire where her blunt nails grazed him.

Sebastian heaved himself off his elbows and sat up, pulling her legs against his chest and lifting her hips from the bed. The adjustment allowed him to slide his entire length in hard, fast strokes that angled up into the point of pleasured tension inside her. He could feel her constricting around him even more, her keening moans growing louder and louder. The sight of her was almost too much for him, her breasts bouncing in time with his thrusts, the expression on her face as she leaned up to watch him disappear inside of her, the way her whole body went taut when he pushed deeper.

His vigor had been something of a legend among certain circles in Starkhaven, earning him a reputation for keeping lovers up all night with his stamina and control. Now, after too many years of celibacy, his restraint was in tatters. When she spoke next, he knew he was finished.

“Sebastian… Sebastian, I’m… oh, fuck… I’m so close…” Her eyes were shut tight and her hands were tangled into the sheets.

He let out a groan and sheathed himself in her, rotating his hips and stirring her slowly, the friction of their contact simultaneously stimulating her clit. Her eyes flew open and she shattered, contracting around him and calling his name and he followed, lightning racing through his veins as he gasped and shuddered and spilled himself inside of her. Tingling heat and incredible pleasure pulsed through his body over and over again before slowly abating.

He eased out and collapsed onto his back beside her. Neither spoke for several minutes, still panting and trembling in the afterglow. When his head finally stopped spinning, Sebastian rolled onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow. Hawke was staring up at the ceiling, a drowsy smile on her lips.

“Marian, you are… the most exquisite woman I have ever seen. I love you.”

She turned her head to look at him, her eyes sparkling. “I love you, Sebastian.” She pushed his shoulder down so he was on his back again, and she snuggled against his side, resting her head on his chest. He hummed happily and stroked her hair. Sated and content, they drifted off.


	6. Reconciliation, Pt 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More smut, plain and simple.

Hawke woke some hours later. She was on her side with Sebastian behind her, his arm draped over her hip. She listened to his steady breathing and after a few moments, decided that he was, in fact, still asleep. Carefully, oh so _gently_ , she rolled her hips back against him. She heard his breath catch but he didn’t stir, so she allowed herself more brazen motion. She felt his cock begin to stiffen against her ass.

It wasn’t long before she heard him let out a soft moan. “This is most certainly the best wake-up I’ve ever had,” he sleepily murmured into her hair.

He pushed in time with her hips, his erection hot against her. Finding herself immediately out of patience, Hawke kicked the covers down and managed to press Sebastian onto his back and straddle him in one smooth motion. There was no hint of drowsiness on him now; his cock was at full attention and he was looking at her with dark, shining eyes. His hands were resting on her thighs and his grip tightened as she began to slide down on him, wet and ready.

He groaned quietly when her hips contacted his and pressed his head back into the pillow. She took her time at first, moving slowly and feeling the drag of him inside her, teasing him with a few shallow motions before slipping down his full length again. He suddenly leaned up, pulling her chest to his face and covering her nipples in teasing licks and kisses. Hawke gasped delightedly and threaded her fingers into his hair. She murmured praises to him, his eyes, his mouth, his chest, his cock. She shifted her hips and brought herself down at a different angle, setting her alight with new pleasure, and she moaned his name, long and low.

“Do that again,” he groaned.

“Hmm?”

“My name. Say my name again. Please…”

“Oh, Sebastian,” she moaned again. He rocked himself against her, stimulating her as he’d done earlier, and she cried out to him again, “Sebastian!"

He started to thrust up into her, driving himself in to the hilt, deeper than she could manage on her own, and it wasn’t long before stars started to erupt behind her eyes. Sebastian must have felt her approaching climax because he reached up to cup her face.

“Look at me, Marian,” he purred. “Let me watch you, let me see your eyes.”

Nose-to-nose, they moved together, stoking the fire in both of their bellies and she felt familiar tingling in her spine. She tried match his steady rhythm but found herself stuttering and halting as her control receded.

“Close?” he panted.

Not trusting her voice, she nodded vigorously.

“Good.”

Sebastian grabbed her hips and he drove in deep and fast, growing harder and hotter inside her and keeping the pace until she tipped over the edge and exploded in his arms. She saw his eyes glaze over and then he erupted, filling her and crying out hoarsely. She covered his face with feather light kisses and rode out the waves of ecstasy with him.

When she lifted herself off his lap, Sebastian let out a long breath and fell backwards against the mattress unceremoniously, resting his right forearm over his eyes. She took in the magnificent view, Sebastian Vael, the object of so many fantasies that she was almost certain this was a dream, _Sebastian fucking Vael_ naked and utterly spent after a romp in her bed. She dropped down beside him on her stomach and giggled. He shifted to peek out at her from under his arm, smiling.

“You're a naughty lass.” His voice was still deep and raspy from arousal, making him sound even sexier, _as if that should be possible._

“You can’t truly expect me to wake up next to this,” she waved a hand at him, “and keep my hands to myself? That’s just not reasonable.”

“I’m glad you think so, love, because the feeling is mutual.”

There was a loud unexpected grumble from Sebastian’s tummy and he flinched, and Hawke suddenly realized she was starving. She rolled out of bed and crossed the room to fill a ceramic basin with water from the pitcher. “I’m going to clean up a bit, and then I’ll go down and get something for us to eat.”

Sebastian didn’t reply, so she glanced back at him. He was standing beside the bed, nude and perfect, stretching luxuriously like a cat. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” he asked innocently.

“I… don’t… I can’t remember.”

“Mmm.” He came to stand behind her, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in her hair. “I think you mentioned food, which is only on my mind by virtue of necessity.”

“Right, that’s right… that’s what I said,” she mumbled.

He chuckled softly and planted a kiss on her temple before releasing her. She began to wet a washcloth in the basin as Sebastian moved about in her periphery, picking through the clothes strewn about the floor and seeking his trousers. He picked up a ball of fabric, examined it and then tossed it aside. Hawke was a bit disappointed when he located his query and pulled them up over his hips. “Quick stop at the privy, then I’ll take my turn cleaning up. Do you want to eat downstairs?”

“No, I’ll bring something up here.”

“Even better.” He slipped his shirt on, leaving the neck open so she could see his throat and the top of his chest. He caught her staring and winked before leaving the room.


	7. Question

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief discussion of how to proceed, and more cat stuff.

Hawke was a notoriously terrible cook, so it was with no small amount of trepidation he waited for her to bring food. He would, of course, eat whatever she prepared and tell her it was delicious; but he was well and truly famished after their activities and was sincerely hoping for something edible. He was relieved when she came in with a tray laden with bread, cheeses and slices of meat, a bottle of wine in the crook of her arm.

“Sorry, it seems my finery has up and disappeared, I had to wear this,” and she nodded at her black robe. “You didn’t happen to see it when you were looking for your clothes, did you?”

Sebastian looked around the room. “I suppose it is possible that someone might have wanted you to remain naked, and perhaps that person hid the finery in an effort to prevent you from dressing.” He shrugged innocuously. “Though, who would do such a dastardly thing, I’m sure I don’t know.”

“No, of course not.”

She motioned for him to sit down on the bed with her. “We’ll eat here. Just mind the crumbs, yes?” They made quick work of their fare, passing the wine between them until the both the tray and bottle were empty. He heard her let out a satisfied sigh before wiggling up the bed to lean back against the pillows. He shifted to rest his back against the bedpost and stretched his long legs across the mattress, perpendicular to hers. She smoothed the robe over her stomach and folded her hands in her lap, looking somewhat expectant.

“Would you like more food?” she asked kindly.

“No, thank you, I’m fine.”

“Wine?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “I’m fine,” he said again. “Thank you, love.”

"It is _entirely_ my pleasure,” she said, and something in her tone made his cock stir. He resisted the impulse to climb up the bed and part her legs. Before he could think of some clever retort, she spoke again. “So… what now?”

“Well, that’s a bit of an open ended question,” he said cautiously.

“It’s not a test, Sebastian. There’s no right or wrong answer. I want to understand where you’d like to go from here.”

“Do you mean, with you? Because I thought I’d already…” he began.

“No, I mean…” she waved a hand in front of her vaguely, “in general.”

“Ah.” He rubbed the back of his neck and hoped he didn’t look too uncomfortable. He didn’t want her to think he was second guessing his decision to be with her. “I’m really not sure. Part of me wishes to make overtures toward returning home. Another part of me knows you have obligations here, things which cannot be abandoned for my whims. Whatever we do, the important thing is that I’m by your side.”

She glowed a little at that, and he smiled. “What do you want to do, Marian?”

“I assume running off and hiding in a hut in the woods for years of reckless shagging is out of the question?”

“Not necessarily.”

It was her turn to smile now. “You tease.”

He climbed up the bed and took her hand in his own, bringing her fingertips to his lips and kissing them lightly. “If you want to disappear from here, live a simple life with just the two of us, we will. We can leave tonight.” Hawke cupped his face with her other hand and brushed her thumb lightly across his cheek. She gazed off and he could imagine her picturing a secluded homestead, a quiet existence away from these demands and duties. It was an appealing fantasy, but he knew she would never do it; Marian Hawke had always been destined for great things, and that was part of what he loved about her. She sighed and settled back against the pillows.

“I trust that Kirkwall will rebuild without my assistance. I suppose the bigger question is, can we leave Starkhaven to the fate of being ruled by your cousin – or rather, whichever family manages to manipulate him to their desires?”

Sebastian grimaced. “Ugh, when you say it like that…”

She laid a hand over his arm. “You know the noble families of the city, Sebastian. Will the infighting trickle down to affect the people of Starkhaven? Do you think they’ll suffer as a result of the competition to influence Goran’s rule?”

“I truly don’t know. There are some… unsavory people at court.” He shook his head sadly. “To be frank, the thought of returning to that viper pit makes me sick to my stomach.”

“Surely it’s nothing we can’t navigate together.”

Sebastian looked into her face, so full of trust and affection, and he felt his chest swell with emotion. He gathered her into an embrace, his throat tight and the sting of tears in his eyes. She settled her body against him and their two forms melded together like they’d been made for one another since the beginning of time, conveying more than they ever could with words. How long they stayed that way, he couldn’t say, but they must’ve fallen asleep again for the sun was below the horizon when he finally stirred.

“Marian?” he asked softly. She nuzzled against him but didn’t reply, still resting in his arms. It had been so many nights since they’d had proper sleep and he didn’t want to wake her needlessly. He studied her now, the freckles that dotted her nose and cheeks (she must cover them with makeup, he couldn’t recall there being this many and they were adorable), the ghost of a scar near her right eye (he remembered that injury, they’d been fighting Tal Vashoth on the Wounded Coast), her hair tucked behind her ear (her ears were pierced, apparently, he’d need to find her some earrings), the delicate curve of her jaw and the smooth skin of her neck (there was a mark there, evidence of an overzealous bite during their lovemaking and he was equal parts pleased and embarrassed to discover it). 

He felt the mattress dip ever so slightly behind him, and a few seconds later a black, fuzzy face appeared over his shoulder. “Hello, cat,” he whispered softly. She pressed her head into his arm and a low purr began to vibrate from her chest. He reached back to pet what parts of her he could reach, not much given the awkward positioning. He made a quiet noise with his mouth and extended his arm down, a means of coaxing her toward his hip so he could rub her belly. Instead she climbed up onto his side and balanced precariously. Sebastian chuckled to himself and then abruptly grimaced, hissing in pain; the movement in his chest resulted in the cat gripping with her nails in an effort to stay perched.

“Alright, get down now, kitty,” and he rotated his shoulder gently.

She stared at him.

He lifted his arm slightly from his side, elevating her back feet. “Go on now, kitty. Go on.”

Two quick steps and she planted herself down into a sit, right on the side of his face. He was so surprised by this unexpected turn of events that he froze, unsure of how to remedy the situation. The cat was clearly pleased, her purr rumbling down into his head. It was so loud that he barely heard Hawke’s laughter. 

Liberated from the restriction of remaining still for his lover’s benefit, Sebastian gently rolled onto his back. The cat migrated to lie between them, curling into a ball of shadow against Hawke’s stomach. He sighed and scratched behind her ears, smiling when she pressed back into his hand.

“Well, one thing is for certain: wherever we go, she is most certainly coming with us.”


End file.
